


passion, pain & demon slayin'

by usohtsuki



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Fluff, Getting Together, Humour, Letters, Light Angst, M/M, Mutual Pining, atsumu has god tier music taste, bodyswap!au, minor side ships, they're in LOVE your honour
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-05
Updated: 2020-05-05
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:53:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24025402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/usohtsuki/pseuds/usohtsuki
Summary: “Dunno, I’m quite enjoying being yer prickly self.” Atsumu’s smirk returned as Kiyoomi groaned. There was a pause. “And why’re ya wearing ‘Samu’s hideous jacket? Makin’ me look bad.”“Why is the jacket that much of a big deal?! You’re wearing a Spongebob co-ord set!”“It’s yours at least!”The SakuAtsu body swap AU that nobody asked for.
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Comments: 88
Kudos: 1224





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> i abandoned all my other unpublished wips bcs i had this idea at 3am two nights ago & somehow i didn't lose motivation or my train of thought halfway through so!!
> 
> it's a bit dialogue heavy & my writing style isn't the most sophisticated but i hope you enjoy it anyway !! let me know what i can improve since this is the first fic i've written since i was like 12 LMAO

“So,” Shion took a swig from his bottle, “What are they arguing about today?” He placed it on the bench and sat down besides it, looking up at Koutarou and Shouyou as they watched their teammates bicker inaudibly from across the gym.

Koutarou scratched the back of his head. “Not sure, but I’m gonna take a guess: 1000¥ Tsum-Tsum said Sakusa’s a sea-urchin again!” He has a mischievous glint in his eyes as he looks at Shion and Shouyou, waiting for them to place their bets.

“As if! Omi-san looks moodier than usual today, I think he said something to set Atsumu-san off. He probably complained about his toss or something,” Shouyou challenged. Koutarou laughed and patted him on the back (something about being proud of his disciple for being so observant). Shion agreed with Shouyou, and the trio joked about their teammates, until the pair's voices reached levels of audibility across the gym.

“Y’know, Omi-kun, I wish I could be ya just for one day so I can finally see how it feels to be a prick all the goddamn time!” Atsumu waved his hands erratically as he spoke. More than three pairs of eyes were on them now, watching the seemingly petty discourse unfold as per.

“It wouldn’t make any difference. We’re both fucking pricks. I’m sure you know exactly how to effortlessly be a prick already,” Kiyoomi grumbled. The team tried to contain their laughter.

“Well, that just ain’t true, is it? You’ll see, Omi, I’m literally the nicest person on the whole team! Ya wish ya had my charisma!”

Kiyoomi rolled his eyes and stood up from where he was stretching on the floor. “Of course, I wanna be you so bad,” monotonously drawing out each word, “The guy who thought the plural of octopus was  _ octopee _ . The guy who is a star athlete but his twin brother who owns an onigiri business is more well-liked than him. The guy who-“

“‘Kay, okay! I get it! The last one definitely ain’t true, yer just being mean now Omi-Omi,” Atsumu crossed his arms and pouted. Kiyoomi might’ve thought he looked somewhat tolerable (read: cute) if he wasn’t being such a brat. They threw another plethora of pointless insults back and forth before Kiyoomi departed to the locker room, with Atsumu huffing at the fact that he wanted to follow after him to continue their debate, but he forgot to stretch in the midst of it.

Their captain, Shugo, chuckled from behind the rest of the team, who were gathered together to watch the performance. “Well that was a waste of time. No one wins the bet?”

They all grumbled at the realisation that they hadn’t found out the root of the argument and no one won the money. Dispersing to tend to their own business in the locker room, training came to a close. Kiyoomi was the first to leave, and his departure meant the rest of the team would hear Atsumu mutter to himself, mocking the outside hitters previous words in a terrible imitation with his residual pettiness.

Kiyoomi groaned as the familiar tune of  _ Heist _ from the children’s movie  _ Over the Hedge _ blasted from his phone at exactly half-past-eight the following morning. That’s strange. His alarm was set to the default tone. He reached for his phone, softly rubbing at his eyes as an ache formed in his back. Must have slept in an odd position. Eyes fully opened, he glanced at his phone. And then at his hand. Long, firm fingers, nails bordering on the edge of needing to be filed again, and skin that wasn't as pale as his.

No. No, no, no. He was dreaming.

He sat up in the bed he had slept the night in. This was not his bed. These were not his high quality sheets and his new hybrid fabric duvet. He wasn’t even holding his own phone. The panic rose to his throat as he frantically dashed through the ajar bathroom door connected to the room he slept in.

Staring in the mirror above the sink, his jaw exceeded the limits of what could be considered ‘dropping’, and was now pretty much dragging across the floor. He was incapable of neither shutting it nor preventing his shock from rattling up a hurricane inside of him. A hand lifted to feel the tufts of light blonde hair sticking up in several directions. (It was soft and he did not expect it to be.)

“What the fuck,” Kiyoomi whispered to himself. “What the fuck? What the actual fuck?” The panic continued to bubble, and he rummaged through the cabinet besides the mirror to find anything to cleanse with. Pulling out what seemed like a lemon-infused facial wash and splashing his face with water enough times to confirm that he was really truly touching it, the fact finally processed in his head and there was no denying it - Sakusa Kiyoomi was inside Miya Atsumu’s body.

The lump in his throat throbbed. Everyone was aware of his strict cleanliness rituals, and he was almost positive, given that Atsumu called detergent “laundry juice”, that he would not have the same standard of hygiene.

_ How does something like this even happen? How long will this last? _ This couldn’t be real.  _ So Atsumu is in my body? _ This couldn’t be happening. This wasn’t real. It was a prank.  _ How can someone swap two bodies for a prank? Get a hold of yourself, idiot. _ This was reality. This was real life.  _ How am I going to live like this? _

Erupting from next door, from what he assumed was Atsumu’s phone, was the undeniable harmony of  _ Careless Whisper _ . Kiyoomi crashed back down to Earth and his eyes met the back of his head in annoyance. He walked back to where he found himself in the morning and picked the device up, reading  _ Omi-Omi _ with devil and water droplet emojis after it flashing across the screen. Raising an eyebrow, he sighed in exasperation (or relief).

“Omi-kun! This _ is _ Omi, right? And not some weird world where there’s now two of me but one’s in my actual body and one’s in Omi’s body?” His voice spoke in a rapid pace and tone across the line. Kiyoomi flinched from the volume - and hearing his own voice in an all too familiar dialect. He wanted to ask how Atsumu knew his password but figured it wasn’t on the top of his priority list right now.

“...Yes. It’s Sakusa. What the fuck is this? What did you do? Explain.” He demanded.

“So mean, Omi-kun! Acting like I somehow had somethin’ to do with this!” Kiyoomi listens to Atsumu complain for a couple seconds before snapping at him to get on with whatever he wanted to say. “‘Kay, listen, uh, first things first - I live with ‘Samu, right?” Kiyoomi inaudibly gasped in realisation. “So maybe ya should come back to your apartment and we can figure somethin’ out or at least, y’know, talk about this? I’m just as confused as you are.” Atsumu surprisingly sounded relatively calm in comparison to the panic storm still raging within Kiyoomi.

“Okay.” He managed to bite out. “I’m on my way. But you better not do anything stupid looking like me. I will not hesitate to strangle my own body if it means it’s your soul that’s dying.”

“How sweet!” Atsumu chirped. “And don’t worry, Omi-kun, ya can take a shower with my body. I’ve got nothin’ to be ashamed of,” Kiyoomi could practically hear him wink and he dramatically let out the most frustrated sigh known to man.

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Okay, Omi-kun, it’s easy to pretend ya won’t enjoy the sight but we both know-“  _ click. _

He sighed again (probably the hundredth time already this morning), ignoring Atsumu’s words, and processed his whirlwind of emotions one by one as he perched on the edge of Atsumu’s bed. It was comfortable, though not what he was used to. The sheets seemed new, surprisingly. Hell, Kiyoomi was surprised that Atsumu washed his face or knew what skincare even was. The products he’d managed to quickly glance over in his earlier panic were all citrus-scented and of high quality.

Maybe he was panicking for no reason after all - Atsumu wasn’t even half as unhygienic as Kiyoomi had pretended he was in his head.

He trudged back to the bathroom and thoroughly washed up as normally as possible despite the lack of his favourite shower products (and an overwhelming urge to pay too much attention to his crotch). His cheeks flared at his own thoughts. This is immoral. Atsumu just got into his head with his flirty comments. That’s all.

Stepping out with a towel hung low around his waist, he meticulously observed the items in Atsumu’s wardrobe. Half of it was a mess with a pile of clean clothes, which he assumed Atsumu was too lazy to fold correctly, strewn across the bottom. Kiyoomi held his head in his hands for seconds before he stood upright again and looked for the most monochromatic things the setter owned. His fashion sense was tolerable, but it was not Kiyoomi’s. And regardless of being in someone else’s body, he was always going to look presentable. He could only hope Atsumu was thinking the same.

Finally deciding on a simple black-shirt-black-jeans look, he closed Atsumu’s door behind him and rushed down the stairs only to be met with an incredulous stare.

“Where’re ya going at nine, dressed like that?” Atsumu’s twin eyed him, sitting on a bar stool and leaning across the kitchen counter with his mouth half-full of pancakes.

“It’s just a shirt and jeans.” Kiyoomi tried to limit conversation as much as possible. “I’m just going… out.”

“Uh-huh.” His eyes were still trained on Kiyoomi as he awkwardly tried to pretend he knew where he was going in order to find his way to the front door. “A shirt and black jeans that yer somehow managed to make look so polished. Never would have thought. Got fancier clothes that ya can’t even pull off like that.”

Kiyoomi ignored him, biting his cheek to stop laughter, and hoping that not snapping back an insult was not uncommon for Atsumu.

“Not gonna argue back? What’s up with ya? Not even speakin’ normally.” Osamu jeered. Well, clearly Kiyoomi got that wrong.

_ I’m speaking perfectly normally _ , he wanted to say. But he didn’t. “I just forgot to do... some stuff? Yesterday? Yeah.” Osamu raised his eyebrows.

“‘Kay, be weird. Suit yerself. No pancakes?”

“No, thank you,” Kiyoomi pulled on staple, white shoes he found by the door and grabbed the dark-green, hooded bomber jacket hanging on a peg - and then he cringed at how formal he just sounded to someone who is currently supposed to be his twin brother.

“Gross, I dunno what’s up with ya but better sort it out quick. Almost make me feel bad makin’ fun of ya.” There was a pause. “Why’re ya wearing my jacket?” Kiyoomi scrunched his face before turning around and trying to look as casual as possible.

“Because it’s nice. Goodbye.” He said, before closing the door behind him (and ignoring Osamu’s ‘ _ Ya said yer’d never be seen wearing something seaweed coloured last week! _ ’). This was not going well so far.

Conveniently, Kiyoomi recognised the street he was on as soon as he stepped outside. It was merely three streets away from his own house. The thumping in his chest slowed at the comfort of familiarity. Within ten minutes, he was at his own door and realised he was without keys. He rang the doorbell. Nobody opened. Knowing how annoying the sound of his own doorbell was when it lasted for more than half a second, he furiously shoved his index finger on the button for ten, agonising seconds before the door burst open hurriedly.

“Jeez, Omi-kun, I was coming! So impatient,” Atsumu whined. Kiyoomi's jaw hung open (again) at Atsumu in his body, dressed horrifically in bright, yellow  _ Spongebob Squarepants _ shorts and an equally bright matching shirt to go with it. So maybe Atsumu hadn’t been on the same page as him when he was thinking about looking presentable. Kiyoomi shoved past Atsumu to get into his own house and the latter grinned wide when he caught sight of his disgusted expression.

“Where the  _ fuck _ did you find those?” Kiyoomi said through gritted teeth, surveying the condition of his still-pristine home.

“Like it?” Atsumu twirled to showcase his outfit. “I was looking for that ugly jacket ya used to wear in high school, but I pulled this out on accident instead! I think it’s great. Where’d ya get it from?”

“It was a gift given to me as a joke. Change out of it. Now.”

“Ooh, ya want me to strip in front of ya, Omi-Omi? How scandalous!” He hummed, skipping around the living room to place himself on the couch lazily.

“ _ You’re in my body! _ ” Kiyoomi near-enough screeched and Atsumu’s grin dropped as he muttered an ‘ _ oh yeah’ _ . He glowered, taking a seat on the couch opposite the setter. “How can you even forget something like this?”

“Dunno, I’m quite enjoying being yer prickly self.” Atsumu’s smirk returned as Kiyoomi groaned. There was a pause. “And why’re ya wearing ‘Samu’s hideous jacket? Makin’ me look bad.”

“ _ Why _ is the jacket that much of a big deal?! You’re wearing a  _ Spongebob _ co-ord set!”

“It’s  _ yours _ at least! And it’s comfy! Omi-kun, ya need to calm down for a sec’. That glare doesn’t suit my gorgeous face.”

Kiyoomi’s nostrils flared and he stood up, marching over to where Atsumu was lazily spread. “How are you so calm about this?!” He had never raised his voice this much consecutively, and Atsumu thought this was the most emotion he’s ever seen him outwardly display. “We’ve swapped bodies! How is  _ any _ of this in _ any _ way normal at all to you?”

Atsumu quietly straightens and looks up at Kiyoomi who had been angrily gesticulating in his face. “I’m just as confused as ya, Omi-kun. Obviously, I was scared we’d been hexed at first too, but now I just don’t see any point panickin’. What can we do? Not like there’s some kind of magic potion to turn us back. I din’t even think this was possible.” Kiyoomi stared at him. He flopped back down on the couch adjacent to Atsumu. It pained him to admit that he was right (so he only did so in his head - but both of them knew that Atsumu was speaking sense for once).

“You’re telling me we have no way of returning to normal?”

Atsumu shrugged. “I dunno, I’m not a sorcerer. I don’t even know what coulda hexed us like this.”

“Why do you keep saying hexed?”

“I watched the  _ Fresh Prince _ episode where they got cursed last night,” Atsumu grinned. Kiyoomi stared at him in disbelief.

They sat in heavy silence. Kiyoomi evaluated all the things that could go wrong with them being in each other's bodies. Ridiculous scenarios flurried through his mind as his own voice broke him out of his trance of panic.

“Well, I’m sure it won’t be like this forever. We just have to figure it out while pretending to be each other for a while.” Atsumu stood up. “C’mon, Omi-kun, it can’t possibly be _ that _ bad being someone as amazing as me. We don’t even have anything important to show up for. Should feel blessed.” Kiyoomi glared at him. Then he suddenly paled, as if a poltergeist had just appeared behind Atsumu. “What? What is it?”

“We have practice today. And then an interview before the new season starts.”

“Oh, fuck! I forgot!” Atsumu shrieked.

“Evidently so. Okay, it’s fine. After this we don’t have anything important until the new season next week. Maybe we’ll be back to normal by then.”

Atsumu narrowed his eyes, “Omi-kun, ya don’t get to suddenly act all calm and collected now when y’were freakin’ out five seconds ago.” He earned a scowl. “All my fans are gonna start hating me if you keep makin’ that scary face in the interview too.”

“You’re obnoxious. I can do a perfect Miya Atsumu impression.” His grin turned into something sickeningly sweet and the pitch in his voice reached incredible octaves, “ _ I’m Miya Atsumu and all I know how to do is be an annoying dickhead and make fun of people. I’m the brother that barely knows how to cook and _ -” Atsumu lifts his hands to cover Kiyoomi’s mouth (or vice versa).

“Ya always gotta bring ‘Samu into it! I’m the better twin and ya know it!” Kiyoomi shoves his own hands out of his face.

“Don’t put  _ my _ hands on your dirty face,” He grumbled, and Atsumu placed a hand on his chest in offense.

“Ya act like I’m diseased, Omi-kun!” Kiyoomi turned his gaze. He’d established this morning that Atsumu was actually anything  _ but _ dirty, yet he still wanted to deny it in his head, for reasons completely unknown. “C’mon, if ya really hated being in my body that much, yer’d be somewhere off a cliff by now.”

Kiyoomi sighed.  _ True _ . “Just because you barely passed my standards of cleanliness doesn’t exactly mean I’m ecstatic to be you right now. I still want to be myself. But in the meantime, you have to learn to act like me because I refuse to let my reputation be soiled by you.”

Atsumu’s grin returned. “‘Course, Omi-Omi. I can do a great impersonation. Don’t ya worry ‘bout a thing.” He hummed as Kiyoomi realised he hadn’t eaten breakfast, despite Osamu offering him some, and walked to the kitchen to put two slices of bread in the toaster, Atsumu on his heel. “Did ‘Samu not make breakfast?”

“He did, but I was in a rush. And I don’t know how long I can pretend to insult your brother for - I actually enjoy his company.” Atsumu pouted.

“So mean to me for no damn reason,” He muttered under his breath. Kiyoomi’s lips upturned slightly at his sour expression. “He didn’t catch on, did he? I mean, yer wearing his jacket, he has to think somethin’s up.”

Kiyoomi shoved two more in the toaster and buttered the two that had already come out, placing one on the two plates he’d placed on the counter in front of him. “He thought something was off but I was quick. He shouldn’t suspect much.” Atsumu eyed him.

“‘Samu’s real good at telling when somethin’ is up and what exactly it is so don’t slip up, ‘cause he’ll kill me for not tellin’ him. Don’t need him to find out we’re in this predicament. He’d never stop makin’ fun of me.” Kiyoomi wanted to say that if anyone was going to slip up, it’d be Atsumu and not him, but he kept it to himself. They ate the toast silently, Kiyoomi cringing as he watched Atsumu’s mannerisms take place with his body. Atsumu passed Kiyoomi’s phone to him and Kiyoomi followed suit.

“How did you know my password?” He questioned once he swallowed the last of his toast.

“Omi-kun… who has their own phone password as their birthday?”

Kiyoomi’s cheeks dusted a light pink. “It’s not that unnatural, it’s easy to remember,” He muttered.

“Yer a professional volleyball player and yer password is yer birthday. Which is displayed in every profile ya have online. I’m tellin’ ya, if ya ever got mugged, they’d be on yer phone in no time.” Kiyoomi still couldn’t fathom the Kansai dialect in his own voice.

“Stop the accent, it doesn’t sound like me.”

“Yer askin’ me to change who I am! What’s wrong with my accent?”

Kiyoomi rolled his eyes. “Your accent is fine. But you have to be me. I don’t speak like that and it’ll be way too obvious something is up.”

“That means yer’ve gotta speak in  _ my _ accent then, Omi-Omi.”

“Yeah, absolutely not.”

Atsumu lightly banged his fists on the counter. “That’s not fair!”

“You’re being a child. It’s more unnatural if I just started randomly talking in a Kansai dialect than if you were to speak in a similar dialect to everyone else just for a couple days, or however long this is going to last.”

Atsumu huffed. “Fine.”

“Go change, Atsumu, I’m not letting you go anywhere dressed like that.”

“Okay, mother.” Kiyoomi’s nose scrunched in annoyance.

Suddenly, vibrations and the tune of  _ Busted _ from the  _ Phineas and Ferb _ soundtrack blasted from Atsumu’s phone, which was in his hand. Panic flashed across his expression and he threw it at Kiyoomi, who raised an eyebrow and caught it with ease.

“It’s ‘Samu! Put it on speaker so I can hear what he says. I’ll mouth to ya what to say,” He hurriedly goes to stand by Kiyoomi.

“Do you have custom ringtones for everyone? Why am I  _ Careless Whisper _ ?” The taller (well, currently shorter) man asked casually.

Kiyoomi’s eyebrows raised even further when he saw Atsumu’s cheeks tint and he shook his head furiously, “Nevermind that, pick up!”

Kiyoomi pressed  _ accept _ .  _ “Yo, ‘Sumu, ya gonna come back any time soon?” _

_ Why _ , Atsumu mouthed,  _ missin’ me already? _

Kiyoomi rolled his eyes. “Why? Missing me already?”

_ “Don’t get ahead of yerself. Suna’s comin’ ‘round. Just wonderin’.” _

Atsumu indicated: _ Yer gross! Go to his, don’t make him come to ours. _

“Cool. I’ll be back at some point to get my shit for practice. Maybe in an hour or two.”

Atsumu angrily pressed the mute button. “That’s not what I said! Ya have to act disgusted at him and Sunarin or he’ll think it’s weird, trust me, Omi-kun!”

“I don’t want to insult your brother. And it’s more entertaining this way because it gets a rise out of you.”

“And ya say I’m the insufferable one! Yer killin’ me here, Omi,” He groaned, then unmuted and they both realised they weren’t paying attention to what Osamu had said.

_ “Hello? Still there? Where even are ya?” _

_ At a friend’s.  _ Atsumu paused in thought, holding out a hand to let Kiyoomi know he’s not finished.  _ Why are ya so bothered about my life all of a sudden, ‘Samu?  _ Kiyoomi repeated after him.

_ “‘Cause ya walked out ya room lookin’ presentable. Thought y’were goin’ to Sakusa’s or somethin’.” _

Kiyoomi glanced at Atsumu as panic flashed across his eyes once again, his expression becoming unreadable. Atsumu lunged for his phone, but Kiyoomi moved back. “Why? What’s that supposed to mean?” He asks into the mic. Kiyoomi moved further away until Atsumu began to chase after him, crashing them both onto one of the couches they’d previously been sitting on and tussling for the device in Kiyoomi’s hands.

_ “What’s goin’ on, ‘Sumu? Yer either havin’ sex or a wrestling match. If yer really at Sakusa’s, I’ll take the liberty of eliminating the first option since that’s not-” _ click.

Atsumu released a loud sigh of relief as he hung up on his brother, sprawled across Kiyoomi’s chest and panting heavily. Kiyoomi softly shoved him off of himself and stood up. “It was getting interesting. Why were you so panicked?” Kiyoomi questioned, his tone bordering on playful. Atsumu narrowed his eyes at him and noticed a slight upturn of the corners of his lips.

“It was irrelevant! I’m going to get changed!” Atsumu stomped off into Kiyoomi’s room, with the latter following him in suit. They argued about what Atsumu was going to wear and he was made to shower (again) to uphold his standard of hygiene. The setter grumbled as Kiyoomi began to style his own hair for him, protesting that he knew how to do it himself.

“I refuse to let you walk out of this house without my hair looking presentable.”

“But I like ya curls, Omi-kun! Should all be left out like in high school, at least  _ some _ of the time.” Atsumu whined.

“Well, I like it like this,” He muttered as he pushed back one side of his hair and slid a few hair grips to hold it in place.

“Oh.”

“Oh?” Kiyoomi repeated.

“It’s clipped back. That’s so cute. I thought it was with wax!”

“I’d have to wash my hair everyday if I used wax all the time. That'll dry it out,” Kiyoomi grumbled, putting his miniature container of hair grips back in his drawer and turning away to hide the heat in his cheeks. He pulled Atsumu to look at himself in the mirror, adorning a simple, black athleisure look.

“I like this outfit, Omi-kun, I might just keep it for myself when this is all over,” Atsumu grinned.

“As if. Hurry up, we’re going to yours so I can get your stuff. Then we’re going to practice.”

They looked their parts. But could they really play them?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> told u atsumu has god tier music taste. over the hedge AND phineas and ferb ?? i have no choice but to stan
> 
> twitter - usohtsuki


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Ah…” He looked down bashfully, “Actually, I was wondering if you could give me some advice, Omi-san. Some… relationship advice.”
> 
> Atsumu blinked. He wanted to burst out laughing. Why would Shouyou come to Kiyoomi of all people for relationship advice?

“Did ‘Samu ask ya anything else?” Atsumu asked as Kiyoomi closed the door behind him. He shook his head.

“He was making out with his boyfriend on the sofa.”

“Gross!” Atsumu scrunched his nose underneath the mask he was made to wear. Kiyoomi was wearing a similar one of his own. (Hygiene is everything, even in Atsumu’s body.) “All my beautiful features are hidden behind this stupid mask, Omi-kun, I can’t believe yer’d do this.”

“I’m doing the world a favour,” Kiyoomi snapped, getting increasingly frustrated at Atsumu’s audacity to whine with Kiyoomi’s voice.

“Whatever, ya love me really,” He hummed as Kiyoomi stopped walking and turned around, Atsumu nearly bumping into him.

“Do you know how to ride a motorcycle?”

“What kinda question is that? A bit random, but no. Why?”

Kiyoomi grimaced. “The quickest way to get there would be my motorcycle, but I obviously can’t drive it because Coach Foster or someone will see  _ you _ riding it and that just raises a multitude of questions.”

Atsumu's mouth parted. “Y-Ya ride a motorcycle?! And I never knew? This whole time!” He shrieked. Thoughts of the black-haired man riding the vehicle in question flew through his mind and he gulped.

“You’re just clueless.”

“Omi-kun, I don’t know what’s gotten into ya but as much as I’d love to ride yer motorcycle, I don’t think yer’d want me crashing off a bridge.” Kiyoomi silently agreed. “Let’s save the intimacy of riding yer motorcycle together for when we’re ourselves again, yeah?” Atsumu winked, and he wished he’d never even brought it up.

So they end up running all the way to practice.

“You guys look energised,” Shugo said as the two of them were seen panting at the doorway of the building, Atsumu resting against the wall and Kiyoomi brushing a hand through his hair. “Ready for practice?”

“Of course,” Atsumu smiled small. Kiyoomi shot him a look as if to say that it was still too cheerful and out of character. Atsumu ignored him. Shugo glanced between them, laughing under his breath at what he deemed to be the usual antics.

“Let’s get started then, since everyone else already made it.”

The pair met eyes, clearly internally blaming one another for their punctuality.

Practice was long and difficult with Kiyoomi having to be a setter and Atsumu an outside hitter. Atsumu’s spiking skills were great and powerful, but not as powerful as the ones Kiyoomi had made his name in the league with. Kiyoomi’s tosses weren’t as perfect and satisfying to hit as Atsumu’s, but he was more on target than off, and he considered that as good enough for the time being. Shouyou approached Kiyoomi during their break.

“Atsumu-san, is something wrong?” He tilted his head in curiosity. “Usually your tosses are all like,  _ BWAHH _ to hit, but today they’re just kind of like,  _ pshew! _ You know?”

Kiyoomi wanted to frown, but he fixed his expression. “Ah… I just feel a little off my game today. I’m okay though, H- Shou-kun.” He nearly forgot about Atsumu’s personalised nicknames for everyone.

“Oh, I see. Hope you’re back on it soon!” He skipped away towards Koutarou, who was screaming about something Kiyoomi didn’t care enough about to pay attention to.

By the time practice was over, everyone had made some kind of comment on the odd dynamics of their plays. Atsumu had been far too focused on his newly found flexible joints and wrists, and had spent too much time flapping them about than spiking with them, earning glares from the true owner of the freakish quirk.

“Go to shower first,” Kiyoomi hissed at him afterwards, reminding him of his role.

Atsumu looked confused before he registered the words, and then stuck his tongue out. He followed his orders and trailed into the locker room as Kiyoomi stayed back and tried his best to chat with the others before going to change.

“You’ve been acting weird today, Tsum-Tsum,” Koutarou laughed, patting Kiyoomi on the back with the force of one of his spikes. Kiyoomi grunted and tried to laugh it off playfully.

“Haha, so I’ve been told. Just not feeling it, I guess.”

“Where’d your accent go?” Shouyou laughed. “You sound like a different person.”

Oh. So they did notice it. “Uh, I thought I’d just mess around and see if ya notice, haha. Got ya, didn’t I?” He stated through gritted teeth and the most monotone voice anyone had ever heard of Atsumu’s. The accent was a little off, but he hoped they wouldn’t press further.

His teammates stared at him. “Sure, Tsum-Tsum. Whatever you say.”

They eventually retreated to the locker rooms, where Kiyoomi huffed as he sat on the bench after his shower. “Awfully red-faced, Omi-kun, didja see somethin’ ya liked?” Atsumu teased. Kiyoomi glared up at him.

“Shut up.” He commanded, and nearly went to open his own locker instead of Atsumu’s.

“If I get stuck with that scary expression yer makin’ with my face when we turn back...” Atsumu grumbled. Kiyoomi went to snap back at him before he was interrupted.

“Hey guys, Yashiro-san is here.” Shugo announced as their manager stepped into the locker room. He cleared his throat.

“Nobody forgot about the interview, right?” Everyone shook their head, all besides Koutarou, who appeared as if this was the first time he was hearing this information. The team laughs at his cluelessness. “Well, it starts in two hours, so we’re gonna head over there now since it’s a little far. Everyone sorted?” There was a chorus of agreement, with Koutarou sulking that he would have worn a more interesting outfit if he had known.

As they piled onto the minibus, Atsumu took a seat at the back like everyone expected Kiyoomi to do in order to sit in solitude. Kiyoomi’s face dropped as he realised he’d have to spend a good hour in an enclosed space besides Koutarou, and Atsumu turned away to keep from laughing out loud.  _ This is nice _ , Atsumu thought. Despite outwardly appearing to be a loud and obnoxious person, even someone like himself could appreciate peace and quiet when he needed some.

Then Shouyou plopped onto the empty seat next to him, and the bus began to roll against the road.

“Uh, Hinata, what are you doing here?” Atsumu tried his best to sound slightly irritated (but not too much because he doesn’t know how someone could be mean to Hinata when he’s radiating actual rays of sunshine from his smile).

“I thought you might be lonely, Omi-san. I know you usually prefer to sit by yourself, but…” Atsumu squinted at Shouyou as he looked down and fiddled with his hands in his lap. There was clearly an ulterior motive as to why Shouyou was here, and the elder was now curious as to what it was.

“I don’t mind, just don’t be, uh, too disruptive?”

Shouyou looked up at him with beaming eyes. “You’re the best!” Kiyoomi peered at them from two seats in front when he heard Shouyou’s exclamation, and narrowed his eyes at Atsumu as if to say  _ you better not fuck this up _ . Atsumu rolled his eyes when the red-head was distracted by his phone and returned his own look of  _ I should be saying that to you _ . They continued to stare at each other and make mocking faces before Koutarou tapped Kiyoomi’s shoulder and the latter reluctantly turned his full attention back to him. Atsumu snorted and Shouyou looked up at him with wondrous eyes.

Half way into the journey, Atsumu was bored of pretending the blur of passing trees on the highway was entertaining to watch as Shouyou fidgeted next to him.  _ How does Omi-kun do this?  _ The trees are all the same, too. Absolutely no variation, a two out of ten for sure in creativity.

He’s pulled out of the  _ Next Top Tree _ reality TV show playing in his head and his attention diverted to the small tug Shouyou was giving the sleeve of his jacket, careful not to pinch the skin. “Omi-san,” Shouyou started, “Want to listen to music with me?”

Atsumu stopped and considered his options. If he didn’t accept, he’d feel like a complete dickhead because it’s clearly taken a good half-an-hour for Shouyou to gather the courage to start off the conversation of, well, whatever he wanted to talk about with Kiyoomi; however, it would also be much more in character if he were to decline because Atsumu couldn’t envision Kiyoomi ever using anyone else’s earphones. Atsumu gazed down at the clean earbud Shouyou was offering to him, then at the younger’s hopeful eyes, and then down at his phone where he saw the cover of his favourite  _ Kid Cudi _ album. Well, that does it, Shouyou has good music taste, so  _ fuck what Kiyoomi says about this later _ . “Sure, why not?”

Shouyou nearly combusted from the shock that ‘Kiyoomi’ actually agreed, and Atsumu placed the earbud where he could hear the opening of  _ Rose Golden _ . “You look like you want to talk about something,” Atsumu began as Shouyou’s humming stopped.

“Ah…” He looked down bashfully, “Actually, I was wondering if you could give me some advice, Omi-san. Some… relationship advice.”

Atsumu blinked. He wanted to burst out laughing. Why would Shouyou come to  _ Kiyoomi  _ of all people for relationship advice? He looked down at his teammate and saw the sincerity in his eyes - he was at a loss for words.

“Uh, go on.”

“Well, I have this old friend,” He started. Atsumu already knew where this was going and refrained from rolling his eyes and singing  _ Hallelujah _ at how long everyone’s been waiting for Shouyou and his ‘old friend’ to get a move on with their feelings. “We’ve known each other for a good five years now, nearly six-” Atsumu couldn’t take this.

“Just say Kageyama.”

Shouyou looked at him with awe. “Omi-san, you knew?! Whoa, you’re so smart!” Atsumu bit his tongue - he couldn’t let Shouyou’s oblivious self give Kiyoomi all this praise when everyone and their mothers knew about their painfully apparent pining for each other.

“Actually, I’m pretty sure everyone but you and Kageyama know about it,” He gave a small smile and hoped it was still in character for Kiyoomi. Not that this whole  _ giving-relationship-advice  _ thing was in character for him at all.

“Oh.” The glistening in Shouyou’s eyes became less prevalent and Atsumu was glad he was able to take the credit off Kiyoomi.  _ Petty _ , the latter probably would have said about it, if he was there to hear the conversation that is. Atsumu motioned for him to continue. “Well, actually, I’ve been aware of it for years,” He explains to the setter how Tobio’s pining became more evident to him over the years and he thought something would make of their mutual feelings before he left to train in Rio, but the man in question never made a move, so Shouyou thought he had read it all wrong.  _ You haven’t read it wrong _ .  _ Are you sure, Omi-san? Absolutely positive.  _ He continued with his dilemma of how since he’d been back, Tobio had been smothering him in affection but they hadn’t discussed the topic of their relationship at all.

Atsumu, again, bit back his laughter. Typical of these two oblivious idiots.

“Have you considered just sayin’ it straight out to him? Asking him what you guys are? You guys have never sugar-coated anything to each other so why start now?” He questioned, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

Clearly to Shouyou, it was not the most obvious thing in the world, because his eyes lit up and his mouth was wide open with a smile as he thanked Atsumu. “Omi-san, you’re great at this! I knew I should have come to you.”

Atsumu groaned internally at the realisation that he has yet again made Kiyoomi look like a good person from helping Shouyou with minimal effort, and mentally punched himself in the gut a couple times. “No problem,” He quietly said as he relaxed to the tune of  _ By Design _ playing from Shouyou’s phone. He paused before continuing. “Hinata,” The younger boy turns his attention to him again. “Why did you come to me about this?”

At that moment, it was Shouyou’s turn to blink like it was the most obvious thing in the world as he said, “Because you’re dating Atsumu-san, aren’t you?”

Atsumu opened his mouth to speak but no words escaped. “Huh?” He had never been this confused in his whole life. Shouyou’s grin steadily disappeared.

“You’re not?” Atsumu shook his head. “Oh…” He suddenly looked alarmed, like he realised he had overstepped boundaries, and Atsumu panicked.

“Uh, no, it’s no big deal, but, uh, I mean - why? Why would you think that?” He carefully asked, cautious not to sound like he was being confrontational like Kiyoomi probably would have.

“I just thought, you only let Atsumu-san touch you, like, help you with your stretches, and you’ve started high-fiving him when he makes a good toss but you don’t high-five us when you or the rest of us make a good spike, and you call him by his first name? A-And Atsumu-san seems more, um, tamed-”  _ Tamed?! _ “-around you compared to how loud he usually is, even though you guys still do argue sometimes, but, I mean, not that I don’t respect him, he’s an amazing setter, but he can sometimes be annoying - ah! Don’t tell him I said that, but, um, yeah, and I just assumed…” Shouyou trailed off and Atsumu felt a peculiar warmth in the pit of his stomach yet simultaneously he wanted to flick Shouyou’s head for his comments. (Not that they weren’t true.) 

“Oh.” Was all he could choke out. “I see.”

“I hope you don’t think I’ve stepped into your personal space, Omi-san,” Hinata nervously fidgeted again in his seat.  _ Oh, he definitely would have thought so _ , Atsumu wanted to laugh again.

“Don’t worry ‘bout it,” He mumbled, and resumed pretending the trees were the most entertaining thing in the world. He wanted to continue the opening episode of  _ Next Top Tree _ , but his mind refused to free him of the question Shouyou had asked him earlier followed by his explanation of his and Kiyoomi’s relationship _. _

_ “You’re dating Atsumu-san, aren’t you?” _

The regular players of the  _ MSBY Black Jackals _ trailed out of the bus and into the large building in front of them. A man who seemed to be stressed out of his wits greeted them at the reception and brought the team up to the broadcasting room.

“We’ll get started soon, make yourself comfortable in the breakout area while the host prepares! It’s just a casual interview about your ambitions and predictions for the new season and of course some fan asks, nothing extraordinary.” They smiled and gave the man a thanks, who appeared as if a massive weight had lifted off his shoulders. The group dispersed to either recline on the couches, make themselves coffee or, as Shion was evidently doing, flirt with the behind-the-scenes broadcasting team as they prepared.

Kiyoomi stalked over to Atsumu. “Acting up in front of the team and your brother is one thing, on live national television is another. I don’t know what you talked about with Hinata but it better not have been suspicious.”

Atsumu gave him a flat look. “Honestly, Omi-kun, yer already naturally suspicious with everything ya do,” He deadpanned.

“I am not. And I’m serious.”

“Yeah, yeah,” The blonde rolled his eyes. “Don’t forget to be as charismatic as I usually am, I don’t want to lose my legion of fans ‘cause of ya.”

“You already do that naturally.” Atsumu nudged him and Kiyoomi nudged back harder. From across the room, Shouyou watched them and his eyes met Atsumu’s.

_ “You only let Atsumu-san touch you.” _

He blinked and Shouyou was engaged his conversation with Koutarou again

The host finally entered the room and greeted them all individually - an average-height woman who introduced herself as Sato Ayumi.

“Now, let’s get started, shall we?” She grinned, signalling to the camera team. “Everyone ready?” She asked the team. They nodded enthusiastically.

The camera began recording and the host cheerfully introduced her show as she presumably always did, followed by the  _ MSBY Black Jackals _ regulars. She wasted no time engaging in the questions everyone wanted to know -  _ What are your predictions for the new season? Which team are you most excited to play? Which players are you looking out for? _

Shugo and Shion answered the majority of the questions with Oliver and Adriah looking ridiculously confused at every question asked. Their Japanese was good, but not good enough to pick it up at the speed Ayumi was speaking at.

“And Hinata-kun, the last season was your first after returning from rigorous beach volleyball training in Rio, correct me if I’m wrong!” Shouyou nodded excitedly. “What was the best thing about training abroad?” She asked, and the team stifled laughter as Shouyou began, knowing they’d have to stop him at some point before he took up the whole interview’s running time.

Eventually, when Shugo got tired of watching Ayumi smile and nod politely, he intervened. She gave him a look of gratitude and moved on. “Now for some questions that fans have sent in! I’ve got them in a bucket here,” She brings out a plastic bucket with pieces of cut-out paper in it.

The team braced themselves. Fan-asks were always nerve-wracking because they tended to ask the more unorthodox questions that you couldn’t prepare for in comparison to an interviewer.

“Who on the team is most likely to pass out at a haunted house?”

They all internally breathed a sigh of relief. This was tame. “Definitely Bokuto,” Shion laughed and Shouyou agreed. Bokuto pouted and crossed his arms in feign sadness.

“Really?” Shugo challenged, “I think Sakusa. He’d probably complain about the ghosts being unclean and faint because they put a hand on his back.” The team laughed again in agreement as Atsumu rolled his eyes and pretended to be offended.

“Haha! Good answers,” The host joined in. “Alright, next it’s specifically for Miya-kun. Your twin brother used to play volleyball with you in high school, and now he owns  _ Onigiri Miya _ . Who do you think is the fan-favourite twin?” She playfully asked.

Atsumu was glaring holes into the back of Kiyoomi’s head from the way they were sat, and he knew the latter knew he was being carefully watched, even if he wasn’t facing him.

“Ah... well, even though  _ I _ think I’m the most amazing setter on Earth,” Kiyoomi began, and Atsumu already wanted to spin his jaw, “My brother is way more popular than me and I hate to admit it. He’s better looking-“  _ We look the same! _ “-He has a business and he can cook. They are just things I can’t compete with. He’s an amazing brother and I must annoy him so much with my irritable presence but I love him anyway-“ He received a harsh kick to the back of his chair and he clears his throat. “Yeah, definitely Osamu.”

The team stares at him incredulously. They never in a billion years could have anticipated Atsumu praising his twin to such an extent on national television. Even the interviewer was in shock. Atsumu planned to later throttle his (innocent) brother for being a point of provocation Kiyoomi loved to use against him.

“Well, that’s surprising to hear from you, I have to admit, but very kind all the same! I’m sure your brother is lucky to have you as much as you are him!”

Atsumu could tell Kiyoomi smiled sweetly, the sickening one he’d shown him earlier in the day and he gritted his teeth. He isn’t going to get away with this.

“Alright, next question - and I’m sure everyone is curious about this one - are you guys dating anyone?” Koutarou’s head perked up, and everyone knew he was about to gush about his fiancée, Akaashi Keiji. They looked at him fondly - Keiji was maybe the only person on Earth who was capable of calming Koutarou’s storm even with his lack of presence.

“Has it been difficult, Bokuto-kun, being a same-sex couple in the spotlight?”

“Actually, Sato-san, not much at all! Well, of course there’re negative comments here and there, more so with me being in the volleyball world, but the majority of the response was positive when we announced our engagement,” He grinned. “And we’re happier than ever regardless.”

“That’s amazing to hear, Bokuto-kun! How about the rest of you?” She questioned.

Shion complained about his bad luck with relationships and Shugo gushed that his wife was well and her pregnancy was seven months along. When it got to Atsumu, the host rephrased the question before he could even begin.

“Sakusa-kun, as everyone knows about your hygienic tendencies, is your personal life affected at all?” Kiyoomi twitched in his seat. Atsumu carefully but quickly crafted a response in his head.

“Well, Sato-san, despite being one of the bluntest and coldest jerks known to humanity,” A few eyebrows raised at this and Atsumu could feel Kiyoomi’s rage, “I’m dating someone, actually,” He says through gritted teeth.

Some team members (read: all of them) casted what they hoped was a discreet glance at the blonde on the front row so as to check his expression - it was one of rage and shock mixed together. Suddenly, the air in the room became tense.

“That’s certainly news, congratulations!” Ayumi chuckled, trying to change the subject as the team began to look at each other questioningly. She immediately started to ask questions which were clearly more humorous than possibly scandalous, and seemed to avoid any related topic for the remaining few minutes.

“And that’s all with the  _ MSBY Black Jackals _ for today folks! They’re a promising and great team this season. Don’t forget to tune into the first match next Saturday at 5pm!” The team waved and the camera stopped rolling, signalling the end of their segment.

“Thanks for coming guys!” Ayumi exclaimed during the commercial break, as the group gathered any belongings and bid farewell before she returned to finish the rest of her daily show.

Now on the ground floor, their manager let them know they were departing in ten minutes. Kiyoomi dragged Atsumu to the toilets as the rest of the team gave each other curious looks.

“What the fuck was that?” Kiyoomi shoved Atsumu into the wall in rage.

“What? I wasn’t the one who started it! It wasn’t even that bad!” Atsumu snapped back. He didn’t know what Kiyoomi was so worked up over - they were just teasing, weren’t they?

“Why did you even think it would be a good idea to tell them I’m dating someone? Don’t you realise I’ll be stalked constantly now by paparazzi trying to catch me with this imaginary person?”

“Omi-kun, it ain’t that serious-“

“You can’t assume that for me.” Kiyoomi snapped.

“Well, I am assuming it. Not like yer even capable of lovin’ someone so they won’t find any dirt on ya. No need to get worked up if yer not really dating someone.” Atsumu shrugged, and something in Kiyoomi’s expression twisted.

“Is that what you think of me?” Kiyoomi spat, backing Atsumu up against the wall again like a predator and its prey.

“W-What?” Atsumu’s breath hitched in his throat.

Kiyoomi held eye contact for an agonising couple more seconds before releasing a venomous exhale through his nose in what seemed to be amusement. Or anger? Perhaps disbelief. Atsumu couldn’t tell. He watched as the outside hitter stomped off to rejoin the rest of the team and Atsumu straightened himself up, doing the same.

He found himself sitting alone at the back of the minibus for the whole journey home. No Shouyou or  _ Kid Cudi _ to keep him distracted from his spat with Kiyoomi.  _ Damn, I should have brought earphones. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> twitter - usohtsuki


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Osamu walked over to Atsumu’s bedside drawer and opened it slowly, as if trying not to awaken his brother. Kiyoomi heard rustling of a plastic wrapper and then the drawer lightly bumped shut. Out of curiosity, he ever-so-slightly opened one eye to see Osamu shoving some kind of chocolate into his mouth and then turning to leave as if he hadn’t just stolen from what Kiyoomi deemed a not-so-secret stash.

When they’d reached their destination, both Kiyoomi and Atsumu avoided saying a word to one other as they navigated their ways back to their homes. Granted, it was difficult because they lived so close (though they’d somehow managed to do so for all these months before without ever running into each other).

Atsumu turned right to make his way to Kiyoomi’s house and Kiyoomi kept walking straight. When he reached his destination, he closed the door behind him and neatly placed the shoes he’d been wearing in one of the gaps on Kiyoomi’s shoe shelf. It looked out of place, but he shrugged. He deposited his jacket and belongings on the nearest couch in the living room and stretched his arms above his head as he grabbed the hideous, neon set of clothes that he’d previously teased the owner of them with. 

Atsumu flopped back on Kiyoomi’s bed and inhaled at the smell of the fresh sheets. _They smell like fruity laundry juice_ , he thought. He grabbed his phone to tweet about how ‘laundry juice’ is a better term for detergent than detergent, and noticed an influx of notifications, increasing every second.

He opened the chat with his brother.

**ugly samu**

_[19:38]_

yo

_[19:38]_

just saw ur interview

LMFAOOOOOOO i love

life its so good to me

_[19:38]_

also watch this replay

of it on twitter, look at the

replies LMFAOOO u being 

clowned left right centre

_[19:39]_

it’s what u deserve

_[19:39]_

( _attached link_ )

_[20:04]_

WTF don’t ask ab that

interview ignore it it never

happened

_[20:04]_

also i fucked up w omi-kun

but idk how

_[20:05]_

oh i know

_[20:05]_

watch the vid first tho the

replies are too funny

_[20:06]_

u know what samu ???

_Read at 20:06_

_[20:11]_

HELLO ?? U KNOW WHAT ?

Atsumu groaned as he realised his brother was purposely ignoring him. He clicked on the link he’d attached and was welcomed by the thirty-minute segment they’d recorded earlier. He knew what happened - he didn’t need to watch the monstrosity of it again. He scrolled through the comments idly.

**@blackjackingoff**

LMAO meian and the interviewers expression while hinata’s speaking i actually lost it

**@bokutOwl**

THE WAY HE GUSHED AB HIS FIANCÉE I WANT THAT

_— in reply to_ **_@bokutOwl_ **

**@cactusjuice**

they are soulmates they invented being soulmates i love them

**@chocolatemilk03**

save adriah and oliver please they look so confused

**@ATSUMUSTHIGHS**

ummm ARE YOU GUYS EVEN SEEING the way the whole team looked at atsumu when sakusa said he’s dating someone THAT ISN’T COINCIDENCE sakuatsu nation HOW WE FEELING

_— in reply to_ **_@ATSUMUSTHIGHS_ **

**@unofficialjohncena**

they’re in love your honour

**@daddymeian**

you can’t make this shit up

**@SunaSunaRin**

and he says i’m sickening #fuckAtsumu

**@oreolover123**

did atsumu’s twin’s boyfriend just reply to this thread

**@LetMeShouyouAGoodTime**

tell me why atsumu looks like that the whole way thru the interview he looks pained

**@schweidenjackals**

why are they acting like that AHDKSHSH something is definitely up

Atsumu groaned at the tweets and slammed his phone down into the mattress besides him as he flipped onto his stomach and screamed into the pillow. Kiyoomi can deal with the drool later.

Meanwhile, when Kiyoomi arrived at the door, he found that Osamu wasn’t home - a breath of relief escaped his mouth. He’d showered thoroughly twice already but only due to his extraordinary circumstances, so he gave in to the itching on the surface of his skin to shower one more time quickly.

The steam from the water (because he’d made a habit of showering at unhealthy levels of heat) gathered at the ceiling and Kiyoomi thought about how it felt like it was a metaphor for his anger right now. He couldn’t explain to Atsumu why he was so irritated at his comment - he had no idea himself where his burst of anger came from. He was trapped.

He exited the shower and cooked up a simple dinner for himself, leaving leftovers for Osamu in the fridge with a terrible imitation of Atsumu’s script on a sticky note he’d conveniently found. He did not care that Atsumu’s cooking skills were sub-par and this would perhaps raise suspicions. All he wanted to do was sleep.

It was near enough eleven at night when the front door clicked and Osamu announced that he was home. Kiyoomi listened to him open the fridge and hum in surprise. He answered a phone call, chatted for a couple minutes, before barging into Atsumu’s room.

“Huh. He’s actually asleep. Freak.” He muttered to himself and Kiyoomi once again had to stop himself from smiling at their love-hate sibling dynamics.

Osamu walked over to Atsumu’s bedside drawer and opened it slowly, as if trying not to awaken his brother. Kiyoomi heard rustling of a plastic wrapper and then the drawer lightly bumped shut. Out of curiosity, he ever-so-slightly opened one eye to see Osamu shoving some kind of chocolate into his mouth and then turning to leave as if he hadn’t just stolen from what Kiyoomi deemed a not-so-secret stash.

When he’d left, Kiyoomi couldn’t help but let out a small laugh, which sounded more like a huff. After all, with no distractions, his attempts to sleep would only be plagued by a certain blonde. He needed to organise something, to rid his mind of the brewing inner turmoil.

He jumped out of bed and clicked the switch for the lamp in the corner of the room to turn on. Surveying the (surprisingly tidy) room, Kiyoomi remembered the mess of clothes at the bottom of Atsumu’s wardrobe, and he opened to find the clothes still lying there, as he expected.

He sat down on the carpeted floor, pulling out clothes one by one to place them on the hanger or fold them neatly into a pile. He pulled faces at a few questionable articles but ultimately continued robotically to complete the task.

About halfway through, he became unsatisfied with not knowing how close he was to finishing and ended up pulling the remainder of the pile out with one sweep. A rough, scraping sound erupted as he did so, and Kiyoomi gathered that there was something buried beneath the clothes. His hands reached out to rummage through and it landed on a plain, cardboard box with _DON’T TOUCH_ scribbled onto it. Kiyoomi wanted to laugh at the childish nature and how everyone knew that this was only an invitation through reverse psychology (everyone besides Atsumu apparently).

Kiyoomi almost felt guilty for opening the box up, until he pulled out a stack of paper. He skimmed through the first lines of a few of them and gathered that they were letters. At this point, he was too far in to not read a few.

He flipped back to the very first letter.

_To me in a couple months time (or years, I don’t really know when I’ll reread this),_

_Whenever I do read this again, I hope I’m doing better. Mayuri-san suggested that I vent my open feelings somewhere when I don’t feel like telling someone something outright, and I thought a diary is too embarrassing. I’m not twelve. Okay, I may act it sometimes but yeah. A letter feels more freeing I guess? Like I kind of just write my feelings down, address it to someone and it feels like a weight lifted off my chest. Like I’m not being held down by keeping it to myself and yet no one has to know about it. It’s a win-win situation! But, yeah, I’m here. Trialling this. I just feel a bit out of it of sorts so I thought, why not try this out? It was okay, just rambling. I may or may not do this again, whether it’s an actual vent or just my stream of consciousness. I hope it helps._

_Atsumu._

Kiyoomi’s mouth parted slowly throughout the letter. He was seeing into a dimension of Atsumu’s mind that he hadn’t even considered the existence of. Suddenly he was an intruder in his home, in his body and even in his life. He knew nothing. But he wanted to, so he read on.

_Kita Shinsuke,_

A name Kiyoomi recognised as Atsumu’s old captain at Inarizaki. He raised his eyebrows in surprise.

_You’re getting married today. I’m so happy for you. It’s been some time since I felt this way but I guess I’m feeling nostalgic. I no longer love you the same way I did when we_

Kiyoomi abruptly put it at the bottom of the pile, not bothering to question his own actions, and he began to read the next one.

_To anybody who hates him as much as I do,_

_Fuck Osamu. That’s it that’s the whole thing. HE’S SO IRRITATING? How can someone be this irritating. I should have swallowed him in the womb when I had the chance. Legal murder. Now it’s illegal or some shit. That’s stupid, I think siblings should be given the chance to legally fight each other to the death. Oh fuck he’s coming up the stairs LETS GOOOOOOo_

_Atsjhf_

The end of the letter and his name was written barely legibly, but Kiyoomi figured it was because he was rapidly preparing himself for a sparring match with his twin.

Kiyoomi had never complained about not having a sibling, but seeing the strong bond the Miya twins had, he felt a little envious that there was no one he could share a relationship like that with. He glanced at the digital clock on Atsumu’s desk which read _23:37_ . _One more letter_ , he thought. He put the previous letter at the back of the pile like the rest and lazily glanced at the first few lines.

_To Sakusa Kiyoomi,_

He blinked. Whether his eyes were more red from how furiously he was rubbing them than from the lack of sleep, he did not know. That was his name on the lined piece of paper. He held it up closer to his face. _To Sakusa Kiyoomi._

While the confusion was settling and his fear of knowing what Atsumu had written addressed to him had yet to disperse, Kiyoomi took time to consider their relationship. They argued, quite regularly - but it was never serious. It was petty insults and remarks made, and then a joke afterwards to which Atsumu would obnoxiously laugh at, and Kiyoomi would hide his amused expression. Were they friends? He really had no idea. He didn’t mind when Atsumu touched him. (Evidence of his comfort was present in the fact that he was not physically convulsing while inside Atsumu’s body.) He always felt a warm, irritable feeling in his stomach when Atsumu was close or when he laughed his loud, obnoxious laugh, but Kiyoomi always narrowed it down to annoyance. _It’s not really annoyance, is it?_

Kiyoomi began to argue with himself before remembering the piece of paper beginning to crease in his tight fist. He read on.

_I hate you._

He frowned. He had to admit he was not surprised at Atsumu’s true feelings, but the tightening in his chest did not cease to exist.

_I hate you so much. I hate the look in your eyes when you’re about to spike one of my tosses. It’s so fierce. Your eyes seem like a black void of emptiness but then there’s this sparkle in it when you’re excited. Like a black hole. I get lost in them. You think no one notices but I do. I hate the way that when you laugh or make an expression that isn’t the standard look of annoyance, you look away. I want to see it. I hate the way I can see your eyes crinkle when you smile under those stupid masks but I can’t see the upturn of your lips. Your lips. I hate them. I can’t look at them without wanting more from you. I hate that when I help you stretch it feels so intimate to me, but you’ve never thought about it in the same way I have. You’ve never dreamed of domesticity with me and waking up in the morning to see my face and lying there for longer than necessary just to stare at me sleeping and feeling like the luckiest person in the world. Because I have. And I hate it. I hate the fact that I’ve been in this position so many damn times of pining and wanting and wishing someone would love me back that I vowed to myself I wouldn’t love anyone again, and now I’m here again, with you making two strides forward every time I get one step closer. I hate this feeling. I hate this feeling in my stomach I get when you’re around and when we’re in a large crowd you huddle closer to me in the slightest way that nobody notices but me. It almost makes me feel like you trust me. And I hate that you don’t really and that I made it all up in my head. I hate that if It was Shou-kun or Bokkun or Meian-san standing there you would’ve done the same. I hate that I’m not special to you. I hate that I don’t know what this is. I hate that I’m rambling like this letter will somehow make its way to you and spare me the embarrassment of telling you myself. Not like anything good would come out of it. It’s not like you would feel the same way._

_I hate you, Kiyoomi._

_Atsumu._

(He ignored the ‘ _haha this kinda gay bro’_ written in unfamiliar script and then a seemingly angry reply of ‘ _SAMU IT LITERALLY SAYS ‘DON’T TOUCH’ STOP GOING THROUGH MY SHIT’_ at the bottom of the letter.)

Kiyoomi couldn’t breathe. The air in his lungs as he read the penultimate sentence had been completely knocked out by the force of nature that was Atsumu. He was dumbfounded. Everything made sense. The flirting, the longing stares, the look in Atsumu’s eyes that he obliviously returned without knowing why. Suddenly he understood the bitter tone in Atsumu’s earlier remark; he understood why he’d seethed with rage when he heard him say _“Not like yer even capable of lovin’ someone.”_

“Why’s the light on I thought y’were asleep?” A voice asked as the door to the room swung open. Osamu looked down at the half tidied pile of clothes, the mess next to it, and then the letter in the hands of his brother. “Yer never gonna tell him are ya? It’s no use cryin’ ‘bout it if yer not gonna do anythin’.”

Suddenly, he was painfully aware of his own pitiful existence as he looked across the room at the mirror and saw the state he was in. He was glad he was in Atsumu’s body at this time. “Just go to him, Sakusa.” He groaned and stood up, gathering his thoughts.

Wait.

“Huh? What did you just call me?”

“Knew as soon as ya looked presentable this mornin’ that somethin’ was off. Ya can’t fool me. Yer both idiots,” Osamu deadpanned. He sighed in exasperation and left Kiyoomi even more dumbfounded than a minute ago. He had so many questions.

But now was not the time. The only thing on his mind was this _stupid letter_ and the _even more stupid blonde_ probably sulking to himself in Kiyoomi’s bed. So he ran (again).

When he got to his door, he pulled out the spare key he’d stolen from his own drawers in the morning and hurriedly clicked it open. The lights were off, except for the dim glow seeping through the cracks of his bedroom door. He clutched the letter in his fist, crumpled and torn.

And he knocked - on his own bedroom door, no less - which proved to be a horrible idea.

“What the fuck,” He heard a whisper from the other side and some rustling. He squinted at the handle in confusion and turned it open.

“Stay away!” Atsumu screamed, his eyes screwed shut and holding a metal bat that Kiyoomi had forgotten he’d placed behind his bed for situations like these (except it was an actual intruder and not himself).

“It’s just me,” He quietly murmured. “You didn’t hear me come in?”

Atsumu’s eyes slowly opened, his expression softening and his arms going limp with the letter hanging loosely from his palm.

The letter? Huh?

He looked down at his fist and his eyes transformed to astronomical widths as he immediately recognised the crumple of paper in his hands. And then he looked back up at Kiyoomi, with the bat in his and the ridiculous _Spongebob Squarepants_ outfit he’d been wearing earlier in the day.

“We’re us again,” Kiyoomi breathed and he went to place the bat in its original hiding place. He perched on the edge of his own bed in relief.

“Ah, yeah, uh, we’re us again, gotta go home, bye,” Atsumu choked out, turning to rush through Kiyoomi’s front door and never look back, too afraid to ask about why he had come over with the letter he regretted having ever written.

“Wait,” A hand grabbed his wrist. Kiyoomi’s soft palm was on his wrist. Atsumu felt like he was no longer in Kiyoomi’s hallway, but rather the centre of a volcanic eruption - extremely hot and dangerously close to spontaneously combusting death. (Maybe it was a bit of an exaggeration.) “I wanted to talk about... the letter.”

Atsumu scrunched his face and looked down, refusing to turn around.

“Omi-kun, I don’t know where ya found it or why ya went through my stuff but... it was a long time ago, ya don’t have to worry about it now.” He bit his lip.

“So you don’t like me back anymore?”

He was going to need to see a physiotherapist with the whiplash he’d just acquired through the incredible speed at which he lifted his head and turned around at - but he didn’t care.

“What?” He held his breath.

“I like you, Atsumu. I... only figured it out maybe, uh, a couple minutes ago. But, it’s been there for a while. I felt the same thing, you know, in my stomach, when you’re around, and uh,” Atsumu couldn’t take the awkward fidgeting of Kiyoomi’s free hand with the hem of his _stupid_ shirt and how he hadn’t known someone to ever sound this monotone when confessing their feelings and the deep blush adorned across his high cheekbones as the dim glow hit the protruding features of his face at beautiful angles.

He leapt with gargantuan force into Kiyoomi’s arms, unintentionally stumbling forwards as the taller man instinctively wrapped his arms around his back, with his own hitting the mattress of his bed.

“Say it again,” Atsumu whispered, the tufts of his platinum-blonde hair lightly dusting Kiyoomi’s forehead. Kiyoomi swallowed.

“I like you, Atsumu.” Atsumu made a sound of— relief? Joy? Frustration?— as he hung his head between the crook of Kiyoomi’s neck and shoulder.

“You’re late,” Atsumu mumbled, his lips grazing Kiyoomi’s collarbone as he spoke. He lifted a hand to card his fingers through his hair, like Atsumu had dreamt of doing so to him.

“But I made it, didn’t I?” He whispered back.

Atsumu lifted his head and pleadingly gazed at Kiyoomi’s eyes, then at his lips, then back up to his eyes. This was excruciating. The latter took the liberty of crashing their lips together. There were no sparks, no fireworks, no tingles and lightning like he’d seen in the movies, but rather a warm fizzing in the pit of his stomach and a complete flutter in his chest.

Atsumu broke apart first to catch a breath. “You look so stupid right now,” He breathily laughed against Kiyoomi’s neck again.

“At least you were right,” He softly smiled, “It’s comfy as fuck.” Atsumu couldn’t help but laugh.

“I like you so much,” He whispered as confirmation, as he lay on Kiyoomi’s chest, basking in the euphoric warmth of the affection he’d been longing for for years.

The following morning their phones nearly short-circuited with the increasing number of notifications appearing by the second. Atsumu stretched and groaned as he unlocked his phone and scrolled through his Instagram, where all the messages seemed to be pouring in from. His eyes widened slightly and a lazy smile hung on his face when he saw Kiyoomi’s post of himself, sleeping soundly on his chest with the caption: _I am dating someone, actually_ **@atsumu13**

**_@onigirimiya_ ** _commented on a post you’re tagged in:_ ur welcome idiots

Maybe swapping bodies had more perks than just seeing ‘ _how it feels to be a prick all the goddamn time_ ’.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank u for reading<3 let me know what i could improve or what you enjoyed most in the comments !!
> 
> twitter - usohtsuki


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